


Trust Fall

by mahwaha



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura eats ass like she's the queen of it, And a conveniently perfect orgasm, Conveniently perfect hygiene, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, No space dental dams here but don't use this as a guide for real rimming okay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 20:35:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7546671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mahwaha/pseuds/mahwaha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Galra had taken this man and held him prisoner, had altered his body and dug troughs across his mind - yet her Paladin only eases beneath the slick press of her tongue against one of his most vulnerable places.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trust Fall

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes, you just need to write about an alien princess giving a pilot an earth-shattering, hands-free buttgasm. And sometimes you need to do it for a kink meme. This is one of those times. Enjoy.

Propped up before her on his elbows and knees, Shiro carries a flush like an Euvarian fever that chews his skin ruddy: his neck, his ears, and the sliver of cheek that she can spy before he leans his head down upon his forearms. The dull plates of his Galran arm stand out all the more against the puckered flesh fused around it, and she can spy each lasting scar like a beacon upon his back. Allura traces the edge of one near his ribs, fingers so much darker against the give of him, and feels heat bloom across her cheekbones when he lifts his head to look back at her.

“Is...this still okay, Princess?” Shiro’s smile feels borderline diplomatic - would be, if it weren’t so uncertain - and it finds its twin on the bow of her mouth while her hands skate down his sides.

“Yes, of course,” she says, gripping his hips. Her Paladins all hold their own variety of physical prowess, but here Shiro shines. The flex of his shoulders distracts her, and a shift in the muscles down his back draws her eyes away from the ripe, flustered red of his face. Instead, her gaze settles on the swell of his buttocks where his skin grows paler. Paler, but almost decadent by comparison to the harder lines of his shoulders and back. Shiro’s breath catches when she drags her palms down his ass and spreads him open, eyes fixed on the tight twitch of his hole - as if he can feel the rake of her eyes. When she looks up again and smiles, it’s more genuine. “Simply appreciating the view that you’re sharing with me.”

The hair on his legs prickles stiff, and his head doesn’t drop quick enough for Allura to miss the way he bites his smile on the way. “Just checking in,” he says, and it’s enough to make Allura dip to kiss the dip of his spine. Her lips stick faintly, his skin still damp with the heat of his shower. If he finds her hands too cold by comparison, he says nothing.

But Allura’s willing to stay until she can work the words out of him, regardless of what they are for. The tip of her nose grazes down his back, skips off before her lips touchdown on the purse of his hole in a kiss. Like that, his body flinches for her, furls tight and closed in that one focused point while Shiro’s breath stutters out like she’s started prying him open, instead. Her tongue sweeps across his hole, hands pressed firm to hold his cheeks apart before she licks it softer. Wetter. Shiro shivers and shifts, his weight leaning back onto his knees while his hands rustle against the sheets, and Allura thanks Altea that he can’t catch her blushing at his murmured, “Allura.”

Galra had taken this man and held him prisoner, had altered his body and dug troughs across his mind - yet her Paladin only eases beneath the slick press of her tongue against one of his most vulnerable places.

Any lingering hesitations sluice away as Allura leans in in earnest, flirting with the give of his body in short, circling prods that opens him to the very tip of her tongue. Shiro’s shoulders lock like mountains against a storm, her careful, laving licks while her thumbs sink dimples into his cheeks. There’s little to taste but he smells of steam and skin, a human body with human sweat and human vulnerability. Drawing back, Allura wipes her chin on her knuckles and takes a bright-eyed breath.

“Shiro.” Shuffling up on her knees behind him, Allura rubs his side as he looks up. Already, his eyes are so dazed. Almost reverent when he looks upon her. She hopes that he can see the same emotions in her face when she looks upon him in turn, holding his eyes as she leans up to kiss his shoulder. “May I move you?”

Shiro blinks through the fog and sharpens up, studying her for a fleeting beat before he acquiesces. “Sure. Of course.”

It’s all she needs to hear before Allura shifts him onto his back, her grip firm despite how light he feels between them. “Tell me if you need me to stop,” she reminds him, the tips of her ears lit hot - less embarrassment, more anticipation.

“And if you need to stop, stop,” he fires back. The smile they share is warm and easy. Nearly as easy as pulling Shiro close when she drops to her elbows, coaxing his thighs up over his chest before he holds them spread for her. His face is one look away now; all she needs to do is raise her eyes. Instead, Allura cups his ass in her hands and lays a scorching kiss to his hole, lashes low but pupils blown when his first choked-off groan hooks her attention. Shiro’s eyes look black, his mouth a trembling line pinched tight between his teeth and his face saturated with a flush. His brow has only just begun to shine with sweat.

As an Altean, Allura takes that for the friendly challenge that it is and picks the lock of his body open and loose. Shiro’s fingers bite into his thighs when she fucks her tongue inside him, each lap shallow and giving against the nerve-riddled ring of his hole, opening him over and over. It feels like his bones are quaking from the thunder of Allura’s own heart, but even the budding ache in her jaw can’t deter her. She sucks at his rim and kisses, lays the flat of her teeth to the flushed skin and feels him open. Spit drips down her chin while she props his lower back and digs in with long, hard carves of her tongue; she sees him open, lips shiny and slack when the first sex-saturated cry forges past his teeth for her.

Before her, his cock lays dark and hard against his stomach. Allura doesn’t touch it, instead locking eyes with Shiro as his hands slide on the sweaty slopes of his thighs while he tries to stay put for her, each nudge forward with his hips edged in growing desperation.

“Shiro,” she murmurs, and her voice sounds like velvet when she shifts one hand close to wet her fingertips, “Touch yourself, if you’d like.” She’s certainly helping herself to him, teasing his hole with two fingers that only circle and flirt while she licks between them. No, Allura won’t penetrate him like that. Not today. Not when he’d asked her for this in such earnestness, such bare-faced vulnerability. It was his decision to ask and hers to give, so Allura only watches when Shiro’s head lolls back and the nails of his left hand bite into his flesh.

“Oh god,” he breathes, voice thick with emotion, and Allura hears his breath hitch with tears while she teases him relentlessly, “oh god, Allura - Allura, please, I don’t - I don’t need -”

His hands stay hooked around his thighs, and Allura understands. The ache rooting her tongue grows as she eats him with more fervor, lips slipping in the slick she’d paved across his skin and strokes sloppier; she catches her tongue between her own two fingers more than once while she rubs along the edges of his hole, but Shiro’s hips stutter right along with his short, frantic breaths as she works him harder. Each exhale threads out as a whine. When he can stand to hold his head up his entire body quivers, and she watches his cock pulse before her tongue drags out, delves in, and his orgasm snatches him up in its muted, jerking surprise. Shiro stops breathing for a second before a clipped moan drops free, and it’s like his chest can’t hold enough air to sustain him, his hole throbbing and squeezing around the shape of her tongue in time with the rock of his hips.

Allura only eases back when it ends, arms shaking - and when had that happened? It’s a footnote against the way Shiro melts, his fingers uncurling and his heels hitting the bed as soon as she’s sitting up. He’s still gasping and pink, sweating and strained when she crawls up to lay beside him and card her fingers back through his sweaty hair. His left hand bracelets her wrist so he can turn her hand and kiss it, palm up like it’s something he wants her to save for later.

“You,” he starts to say, and Allura’s brows lift while she locks their fingers together. Shiro cracks a little smile. He looks exhausted - and in need of another rinse, if she’s honest. “You’re messy, for a princess.” And then, riding the coattails of her wide eyes, “Thank you.”

A moment. A moment of rest is all she’ll need, and then she’ll carry him to the shower and clean them both up. But then and there, Allura laughs like the sound’s been shocked out of her.

“You’ve hardly seen my ‘messy,’ Shiro. But you’re very welcome.” 

She thinks she’d like to show him ‘messy’ some other time. She hopes that he asks.


End file.
